


Easing The Frustration

by Val_Creative



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Body Dysphoria, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 15:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18413162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Coming home after disappearing for so many years takes adjusting. Five doesn't recognize the lines on their faces, or the begrudging heaviness between Luther and Allison, or the silvery hairs in Pogo's fur. Klaus, though. He hasn't changed by much — tall, sassy, a pain in the ass generally. They can't pick up where they left off. Five doesn't want that.





	Easing The Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on my idea of Klaus only been able to communicate with his tattoos FOR A WHILE NOW AND I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AN EXCUSE TO USE IT. HERE WE GO. I'M DOING IT, LADS. I imagine this with Five as 18+ so feel free to do the same and heres the [prompt](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=69404)! Any thoughts/comments appreciated!

 

*

Coming home after disappearing for so many years takes adjusting.

Five doesn't recognize the lines on their faces, or the begrudging heaviness between Luther and Allison, or the silvery hairs in Pogo's fur. _Klaus_ , though. He hasn't changed by much — tall, sassy, a pain in the ass generally, but Klaus's lankiness has been replaced by firm, toned muscle. He consistently wears dark, smearing makeup and reeks like amphetamines and stale wine.

They can't go back to when they were kids. Pick up where they left off. Five doesn't want that.

He doesn't feel right in this body and Klaus has been sympathetic enough, offering to _ease_ the hormones occasionally, Klaus's fingers making quick, vulgar work of stroking him off, until Five's toes curl-clenched in his shoes. Until he groaned out, back arching in, pulsing and spilling a load of sticky, wet cum, having it drip down Five's shaft. Klaus would say something obnoxious, teasing, his mouth engulfing Five's sensitive, reddened cockhead, flattening his tongue and _dragging_ a long line up the cord of vein. He surrendered without question, right then, to the heated, greedy press of Five's lips opening against this.

Getting… well, _frustrated_ doesn't help matters.

Especially after a full day of thinking about how tight Klaus gets when an aggravated, kiss-breathless Five orders him to turn over, his lubricant-filled ass practically sucking Five's dick in, holding him deep.

Five tries to run through every randomized sequence of mathematical equations he knows by heart, pacing the corridor, and then hears a rustle of activity from the fourth floor's bathroom.

He zaps in, discovering Klaus leaning with a leg propped up on the tub.

The faucet gurgles on, but most of tub's water has been saturated by magenta and cotton-candy blue swirling. A graffiti-painted skateboard rests on the edges, unable to tumble in, covered with a variety of snack wrappers and a half-emptied Gatorade bottles. A metallic purple boombox playing Whitney Houston.

Klaus's damp hair enveloped in a jumbo, ivory-colored towel piled on top of his head, and his waist modestly tucked around with another similar towel, opened where Klaus's leg sticks out.

The oddest part is the glitter. _Everywhere_.

Gold-flecked glitter plastered all over Klaus's underarm and the dark, curling hair, as well as multi-colored gem stickers. More stickers all over Klaus's leg — caricatures of fruits and clouds and hearts and little, yellow fishes — along with gold and green and blue glitter.

Five glances skeptically at the pink shaving razor in Klaus's hand, and then at Klaus's innocent expression. Before the other man can explain himself, Five shakes his head, abruptly turning.

"I do _not_ want to know—"

His sentence cuts off when Klaus begins slapping on his **HELLO** tattoo repeatedly. Loudly.

It's enough to get Five's attention, sure, because _what_? What's with all of the slapping? Klaus stares pointedly at him, tapping on his throat, mouthing and gesturing wildly. As far as Five can try to interpret him… Klaus lost his voice recently. Probably from laryngitis or some virus. It's been going around.

"So what?" Five drawls, wrinkling his nose and snorting. "Deep-throat too hard or something?"

Klaus narrows his eyes, unamused, holding up the **GOODBYE** tattoo to Five and blocking with his fingers to reveal **BYE**. He tosses the razor into the colorful water, scrubbing on his bare leg with jet-black fingernails, peeling off the puffy-plastic stickers more efficiently.

Looking down, Five thins his mouth and shoves his hands into the blazer-pockets, approaching him.

"It was a joke. I'm sorry, Klaus."

 **GO**.

Klaus doesn't look up, thrusting out his hands and sliding one of them dramatically under **GOODBYE**. It shouldn't be _attractive_ when he's sullen. But that's Klaus for you. Defying logic.

"Don't be a brat," Five murmurs, waiting until he's done before grasping onto both of Klaus's hips, pulling him in. Klaus's chest heaves, and his light green eyes tick up a size. "Or would you _like_ to be treated like a disobedient child?" he adds, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Even a silent Klaus is capable of murmurous breathes and little, high gasps, when Five's hands crawl under his waist-towel, pulling it off, _aching_ to feel Klaus's thighs and buttocks.

It's even better when he's pinned down under Klaus's weight, straining and biting down on his lower lip. The fluffy, ivory towels under him. The sensation of Five's own slippery, _slick_ fingers probing his rim, as he grips himself one-handed and pumps lazily, focusing on relaxing.

Five planned on removing _all_ of his clothing until an eager Klaus stopped him from rolling down his darkened, wool knee-socks. What a pervert. Five drapes his legs over Klaus's shoulders, digging his heels in. One of Five's short, thin fingers enters himself, stretching, burning. He grimaces, blinking back the moisture in his eyes, ignoring the flash of concern on Klaus's face.

Klaus mouths his name, bending over and tugging Five's hand away. Gentle, lip-nibbling kisses. He grasps Five's cock, nudging over those smaller fingers, helping him get off quicker.

There are still bits of glitter on Klaus's skin, and the gem-bright stickers under his arms, and Five drifts into a haze, breathing raggedly against the other man's neck. Klaus has the odor of soap and warm, rich cologne permeating Five's senses, thickening within the noises of sex.

Klaus's fingers rake into his hair, combing away his bangs and settling on top of Five's head.

One of Five's legs drops back to the bathroom floor, as they buck and quiver together, Klaus's cock trembling against his. Five groans out, dizzy from his orgasm, tilting his head back against Klaus's palm, eyelids fluttering shut. His stomach coating with his and Klaus's cum.

 **HELL**.

Letting out a croaky, smitten laugh, Klaus presents out the **HELLO** , blocking out the **O** portion.

"Tell me about it," Five mumbles, grinning.

*

 


End file.
